Tuesday, May 4, 2010

My Mother's Hands

My mother's hands are beautiful to me.
I see loveliness in them that others may not see.
The skin covering them is so very thin
That it's unable to conceal the veins within.
The loose skin that's folded into wrinkles is so fine,
That it reminds me of desert sand blown line upon line.
For years, the skin was work-worn, calloused, dry, and chapped;
Now, it's like that of babies she once held while they napped.

My mother's hands are beatuiful to me.
I see loveliness in them that others may not see.
I remember how they soothed my feverish brow,
And how they often "showed me how."
I recall how her hands always found work to do,
Seldom being idle these 86 years through.
They stored hay into the barn loft many a day,
And fashioned feed sacks into clothes just right for play.

My mother's hands are beautiful to me.
I see loveliness in them that others may not see.
I am awed by all her skillful hands have done--
How they've worked constantly from sun to sun.
I'm grateful for all they've done--so much, much, much!
I'm comforted by the memories of their gentle touch.
I'm also thankful for the love her hands have shown
As, through the years, they've cooked and washed and soothed and sewn.

(C) December 3, 2002, by Johnnie Ann Burgess Gaskill

Note: Mother is now age 93 and, sadly, no longer knows any of us who love her dearly. But we remember her! And the remembering makes us cherish her all the more and increases our gratitude for her life and the wonderful example she set for us.


Judy said...

This is beautiful. I thought of my own mother's hands when reading this; what all they have done throughout my life.

Judy said...

Jesus, You Are

A Songbird that brings sweet
Melody into my wistful heart
The savory spice which adds
Zest to my lonely days

Exquisite flowers on a hillside
That bring beauty and delight
Living and cooling water
A tonic to revive and refresh

The master teacher of knowledge
And I, the adoring student at your feet
Light that illuminates my night
Guiding me through raging storms.

A king adorned in purple robe
And I'm your beloved servant
The strong citadel that protects
Me from all dark and evil forces

My loving Savior, your scarlet blood
Flowing from your brow and side
Sweet nectar of forgiveness that
Brings abundant joy to my soul.

Judy said...

The Roses Upon My Fence

Lord, I had a reminder of you
Red roses on my fence, it's true.
The color of blood you shed
Thorns, the crown on your head.

These beautiful red roses in bloom
Seem a contrast to my Savior's tomb.
But, God, I know this wasn't the end
You raised your Son, he did ascend.

This lovely rose's sweet perfume
Reminds me I'm free from gloom
As spring makes all things new
Jesus gives me a heavenly view.

Because of him I am made clean.
As this rose with leaves of green
I have a brand new life story
And to my Lord goes all the glory

Judy said...

Seasons of My Life

Life is a balance of tears and laughter.
Not always happily ever after.
Each season is a new dimension
At times filled with apprehension

Spring, a fresh start, green grass growing
Spectacular flowers unfolding.
Summer, time of fishing and hiking,
with family, camping and biking.

Autumn brilliant color displays
Cool weather, magnificent days.
Winter, relaxing, a time to ponder
To sit, reflect, read and wonder.

Spring and summer of my life are past
I'm enjoying grandchildren at last.
Autumn of my life with color ablaze,
And God created all of my days.

My life is like a flower in bloom
Blessings God gives are the perfume.
As my journey nears its end
I'll see my Saviour around the bend.

Judy said...

I forgot to leave my contact information with my poems:

Judy Wood